• posh twat •

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" Toast or Cornflakes?" My uncle, Will, says to me as I take a seat at the table.

" Id rather throw up" I tell him rolling my eyes.

Today I start school. A comprehensive school in the middle of Yorkshire which is allot different to the private school I attended in London.

"Toast it is then" he sighs, before grabbing the bread out of cupboard.

" if you're anything like your mum, you'll do great at school" He says, as he unravels the bread and pulls two pieces out.

" Yeah, well my mother also killed herself so Will, your point is kind of invalid" I say, which makes him give me a look as if to say shut up while putting the bread into the toaster.

I didn't really like my mother anyway, she was not a nice woman and was mentally abusive to my step-father, who I absolutely adored.

" Humours the same too" he says, raising his eyebrows.

" What do you even do at the school?" I ask him, while holding my chin in my hands.

" A PE teacher" he says.

" So not a real teacher then " i shrug, which causes him to slightly laugh.

" I do allot for those kids, thank you very much" He says as the toast pops out of the toaster.

" I'm sure you do" I say slightly laughing.

Will and I have always been quite close, I mean when I was a child he helped take care of me because my mum wasn't great at it.

But then she met my step-father, who moved us to London and put me into a private school, she left him and then 3 months later she hung herself.

My stepdad had already moved on to another woman who despised me and thus I got shipped off to Yorkshire to live with my uncle.

" Here ya go" He says, handing me a plate with toast on it and a pack of margarine shortly after.

" Thanks" I smile, before taking a knife and buttering my toast.

" So how are we gonna go about this, are you my niece at school, or not?" He questions me, as he sits across the table with a bowl of cornflakes and milk.

" I'm going to be Julianna Acton, with a stable family who love me and have a dog named Barky" I say, taking a bite of my toast.

" Suit yourself" he shrugs, while shoving a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth

***

" So this, this is my niece, my not niece, Julianna" My uncle says, leading me into what I'm guessing is the head teachers office.

" Thank you Mr Simpson, I'm Miss Carter" She says, as my uncle nods before leaving me in a room with Mrs Carter.

" So London hey?" She says, ushering me to sit down. I slowly nod my head before placing my bag onto the floor and sitting in the chair.

" You seem like a very smart girl, A's in every subject. Wow" she says, as she sits at her computer.

" So here is your timetable" she tells me, handing my a piece of paper.

" Thank you" I lightly smile, taking the piece of paper from her hands and reading through the paper in my hands.

" So I'll show you to your first class, if you would like to come with me" She says smiling, and standing up which I follow suit and stand up straight after her.

We walk down the halls of the school, kids everywhere, behaving nothing like they would in London, just hitting each other and swearing at each other which just makes me extremely nervous.

" I suppose this is a bit different that your old school" She says, still ahead of me and slightly looking back.

" Extremely" i say, slightly laughing.

" Here we are. If you need anything just go to your uncle, or come to me." She smiles.

" Thank you Miss Carter" I say, as she opens up the door to a classroom, only half full of students.

" Posh twat" I hear someone say as I the teacher walks closer to me.

" Ay come on now. You must be Julianna" She smiles, dismissing the students comment about me.

" Sit next to Alya, pink hijab" she points to a girl, wearing a pink hijab.

" It's not pink Miss, it's fuscia" she says laughing as I take the seat next to her.

" Hey, I'm Annie" I say to her smiling, reaching out one hand to shake.

She looks me dead in the eyes, before rolling hers and going back to laughing with her friends.

I gently put back down my hand and turn my body back to the front of the class, where everyone is involved in their own conversations.

This is going to be allot different than London.

So much different.

***

Run Wild • Ackley Bridge Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu